I had a dream in which God requested something of me, but in the strange way that is now so common between us; another one of those moments when God seems to chuckle and say, "Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. You'll see."
I had a dream, and in it, I was given an assignment by God. He asked me to visit a series of churches, specifically to check out the foam level. I began to visit churches randomly, and indeed they all had mounds of foam, like suds frothing up on their floors. I studied the status of that foam at church after church, quite diligently I did my job. And it didn't seem odd that there should be foam, nor that I should give it such careful attention. In time, I felt ready to report back to God. So I returned to Him and made my report: the foam was still there, but it was dissipating, breaking down. And that was the end of the dream.
I've had enough of these dreams to have learned two things about my reception of them: I must proceed with patience, but likewise with attention. Like a pot moved to a back burner to simmer while other things might happened on the front burner, so this dream was that back burner's fare that was nonetheless still on the menu.
So I was hardly surprised when some time later, in the course of my regular Bible reading, I came across this passage. There was once a time when such a correlation left me breathless while cold chills ran the length of my spine. Now I simply smile a secret-well-shared sort of smile. Does that mean You are growing our relationship to new levels of familiarity? In any case, here is the reference:
Jud 1:10 Yet these men speak abusively against whatever they do not understand; and what things they do understand by instinct, like unreasoning animals–these are the very things that destroy them.
Jud 1:11 Woe to them! They have taken the way of Cain; they have rushed for profit into Balaam's error; they have been destroyed in Korah's rebellion.
Jud 1:12 These men are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm–shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted–twice dead.
Jud 1:13 They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever.
There was my foam. Shame, unrecognized and ineffective in changing those causing it.
I went deeper into a study on these ones so graphically defined as dangerous and fruitless for any genuinely good result. The book of Jude is a small book; an interesting one to consider. For instance, it rests some of its arguments on texts that historic Jews considered common knowledge (like the texts that documented the dispute between Michael and the Devil over Moses' body and all the prophecies of Enoch) but are not a part of the holy canon. Now, 1700 years after the Nicaean Council's historic meeting about the unification of the Christian faith, these texts are virtually unknown to Christians, even by title, and certainly are more unfamiliar in content than they were to the original readers of these letters to the churches. That is one interesting point about the book of Jude--how it reminds us what is no longer common knowledge. Another is its brevity, and in that sense, its purity of intent. It addresses one need, fields one warning, fleshes out one danger: beware the false teacher/leader. People of the true faith are instructed on how to move forward in their walk with God despite these false ones who shamelessly stain the fabric of the corporate faith.
I understood the dream's call, then and was sobered by it. But, implementing it was hardly feasible. Both my husband and I had worship, service and leadership commitments within our local church. How were we to make this assessment happen? And, even before we could go to work on making such a survey doable, the family was struck with mono, and no one went to church for a couple of months, or went much of anywhere for that matter except the doctor's office! Life circumstances extricated us from most obligations, one by one, but that is already documented here.
When we recovered and returned to church, we were completely free of those obligations as we'd been out of the loop for a while. It was time to pick up the reigns again if we were going to do so, but even as we "visited" again our church home, we felt a change within us. Neither of us felt particularly led to resume our former work in the church. What's more, we felt led to go out and visit other churches. Maybe it was time for a change, we thought. Funny how just a few months in the wilderness of illness made me forget the dream and its defining Scripture.
But as we began visiting other churches, each time I felt a question, a test if you will, pop into my mind. Watch for this, I'd hear in my mind's ear. Look for this, I'd feel told to watch with my mind's eye. And as for what my heart might perceive, this was all the more mysterious and off the beaten path of past experiences with "church shopping." For instance, at one church, I was listening to a sermon on the topic of being willing to embrace relationship with God outside the realm of His provision for our creature comforts. As I diligently took my notes on the back of my bulletin in that space labeled: Sermon Notes, an idea popped into my mind--Jesus addressed this topic when He spoke of how foxes have dens, but the Son of Man has no place to rest His head. Jesus should be one of the points of evidence confirming the validity of this aspect of the life of faith. But points one, two and three went by without Jesus making an appearance in the sermon. I thought the sermon might fail to present its most conclusive evidence proving its assertion when in a last point--a fourth point (who preaches a four-point sermon!?!)--the pastor at last brought Jesus on the scene. The image of the dissipating foam suddenly flashed to mind. We were living the drama of the dream, indeed had walked through Acts I and II before we even knew we were on stage. I believe those moments of human realization of divine intervention are surely a delight to God. I've felt His glee when He knows we've discovered His amazing plans presented mid-stream such that we are shielded from taking undue credit for their wisdom--because the awareness arrived both late and effortlessly full blown.
So we stepped all the more alertly into this church hunt, realizing it had a larger context than simply one family finding a new church wherein to worship. I believe we all--as God's creation--have opportunities to live in a larger context than the details of our singular time-locked lives. We are living poetry, and a blessed few even know it.
But now the children grow weary. They (and we) would like to settle somewhere. We long for a place to call home in the worship sense. Still, as an encouragement, the Spirit reminds us kindly that our work matters. Last night, we had deep-spirit friends over for dinner. A sudden shower drove that summer-rain scent through the window, wafting over the fantastic aroma of my husband's handiwork: a barbecued tenderloin that all agreed was some of the best barbecue they'd ever tasted. Even as the rain fell softly outside like a gentle cocoon, we sat in the warm glow of the well-lit dining room. There my friend commented on a day last week when clouds all day seemed to promise rain, yet in the end gave none.
This morning, I decided to re-visit my Commission, and there I saw a reminder that the Spirit is still with us, even through the weariness of our human frailty, and even through a common little dinner shared with friends, an event that hardly classifies as worship in the grand scheme of worship services. But I saw again the verse that claimed false teachers are like rainless clouds, and I remembered how my spirit-sister reminded me last night, without meaning to be profound in the least, and in such being profound all the more, that rainless clouds have made an appearance recently, but now were but a thing of passing memory.
After the rainless clouds have their day, a good meal will be shared, warm company enjoyed, even hearty and passionate differences of opinion bandied about in loving fun, all as the clouds keep their promises of gentle rain. I can face the Sabbath in peace a while longer, God; and as is so often the case, (I quote my husband here)I can persevere and endure almost anything as long as I know what is ahead of me. Even better, when the knowing fortells something good.
Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the lovingkindness of the Lord. Psalms 107:43
I had a dream, and in it, I was given an assignment by God. He asked me to visit a series of churches, specifically to check out the foam level. I began to visit churches randomly, and indeed they all had mounds of foam, like suds frothing up on their floors. I studied the status of that foam at church after church, quite diligently I did my job. And it didn't seem odd that there should be foam, nor that I should give it such careful attention. In time, I felt ready to report back to God. So I returned to Him and made my report: the foam was still there, but it was dissipating, breaking down. And that was the end of the dream.
I've had enough of these dreams to have learned two things about my reception of them: I must proceed with patience, but likewise with attention. Like a pot moved to a back burner to simmer while other things might happened on the front burner, so this dream was that back burner's fare that was nonetheless still on the menu.
So I was hardly surprised when some time later, in the course of my regular Bible reading, I came across this passage. There was once a time when such a correlation left me breathless while cold chills ran the length of my spine. Now I simply smile a secret-well-shared sort of smile. Does that mean You are growing our relationship to new levels of familiarity? In any case, here is the reference:
Jud 1:10 Yet these men speak abusively against whatever they do not understand; and what things they do understand by instinct, like unreasoning animals–these are the very things that destroy them.
Jud 1:11 Woe to them! They have taken the way of Cain; they have rushed for profit into Balaam's error; they have been destroyed in Korah's rebellion.
Jud 1:12 These men are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm–shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees, without fruit and uprooted–twice dead.
Jud 1:13 They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever.
There was my foam. Shame, unrecognized and ineffective in changing those causing it.
I went deeper into a study on these ones so graphically defined as dangerous and fruitless for any genuinely good result. The book of Jude is a small book; an interesting one to consider. For instance, it rests some of its arguments on texts that historic Jews considered common knowledge (like the texts that documented the dispute between Michael and the Devil over Moses' body and all the prophecies of Enoch) but are not a part of the holy canon. Now, 1700 years after the Nicaean Council's historic meeting about the unification of the Christian faith, these texts are virtually unknown to Christians, even by title, and certainly are more unfamiliar in content than they were to the original readers of these letters to the churches. That is one interesting point about the book of Jude--how it reminds us what is no longer common knowledge. Another is its brevity, and in that sense, its purity of intent. It addresses one need, fields one warning, fleshes out one danger: beware the false teacher/leader. People of the true faith are instructed on how to move forward in their walk with God despite these false ones who shamelessly stain the fabric of the corporate faith.
I understood the dream's call, then and was sobered by it. But, implementing it was hardly feasible. Both my husband and I had worship, service and leadership commitments within our local church. How were we to make this assessment happen? And, even before we could go to work on making such a survey doable, the family was struck with mono, and no one went to church for a couple of months, or went much of anywhere for that matter except the doctor's office! Life circumstances extricated us from most obligations, one by one, but that is already documented here.
When we recovered and returned to church, we were completely free of those obligations as we'd been out of the loop for a while. It was time to pick up the reigns again if we were going to do so, but even as we "visited" again our church home, we felt a change within us. Neither of us felt particularly led to resume our former work in the church. What's more, we felt led to go out and visit other churches. Maybe it was time for a change, we thought. Funny how just a few months in the wilderness of illness made me forget the dream and its defining Scripture.
But as we began visiting other churches, each time I felt a question, a test if you will, pop into my mind. Watch for this, I'd hear in my mind's ear. Look for this, I'd feel told to watch with my mind's eye. And as for what my heart might perceive, this was all the more mysterious and off the beaten path of past experiences with "church shopping." For instance, at one church, I was listening to a sermon on the topic of being willing to embrace relationship with God outside the realm of His provision for our creature comforts. As I diligently took my notes on the back of my bulletin in that space labeled: Sermon Notes, an idea popped into my mind--Jesus addressed this topic when He spoke of how foxes have dens, but the Son of Man has no place to rest His head. Jesus should be one of the points of evidence confirming the validity of this aspect of the life of faith. But points one, two and three went by without Jesus making an appearance in the sermon. I thought the sermon might fail to present its most conclusive evidence proving its assertion when in a last point--a fourth point (who preaches a four-point sermon!?!)--the pastor at last brought Jesus on the scene. The image of the dissipating foam suddenly flashed to mind. We were living the drama of the dream, indeed had walked through Acts I and II before we even knew we were on stage. I believe those moments of human realization of divine intervention are surely a delight to God. I've felt His glee when He knows we've discovered His amazing plans presented mid-stream such that we are shielded from taking undue credit for their wisdom--because the awareness arrived both late and effortlessly full blown.
So we stepped all the more alertly into this church hunt, realizing it had a larger context than simply one family finding a new church wherein to worship. I believe we all--as God's creation--have opportunities to live in a larger context than the details of our singular time-locked lives. We are living poetry, and a blessed few even know it.
But now the children grow weary. They (and we) would like to settle somewhere. We long for a place to call home in the worship sense. Still, as an encouragement, the Spirit reminds us kindly that our work matters. Last night, we had deep-spirit friends over for dinner. A sudden shower drove that summer-rain scent through the window, wafting over the fantastic aroma of my husband's handiwork: a barbecued tenderloin that all agreed was some of the best barbecue they'd ever tasted. Even as the rain fell softly outside like a gentle cocoon, we sat in the warm glow of the well-lit dining room. There my friend commented on a day last week when clouds all day seemed to promise rain, yet in the end gave none.
This morning, I decided to re-visit my Commission, and there I saw a reminder that the Spirit is still with us, even through the weariness of our human frailty, and even through a common little dinner shared with friends, an event that hardly classifies as worship in the grand scheme of worship services. But I saw again the verse that claimed false teachers are like rainless clouds, and I remembered how my spirit-sister reminded me last night, without meaning to be profound in the least, and in such being profound all the more, that rainless clouds have made an appearance recently, but now were but a thing of passing memory.
After the rainless clouds have their day, a good meal will be shared, warm company enjoyed, even hearty and passionate differences of opinion bandied about in loving fun, all as the clouds keep their promises of gentle rain. I can face the Sabbath in peace a while longer, God; and as is so often the case, (I quote my husband here)I can persevere and endure almost anything as long as I know what is ahead of me. Even better, when the knowing fortells something good.
Whoso is wise, and will observe these things, even they shall understand the lovingkindness of the Lord. Psalms 107:43
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